He looked pretty intense about it. Like, I just discovered a new chord intense. Why is there top secret hockey strategy in there? Are we planning a coup against the coach? No, Garrett said, his voice dropping an octave. Deadly serious. Worse. Before Garrett could push past Dean to get to the porch, Ally Hayes practically threw herself into the room, her eyes wide with that fearless, energetic spark that usually meant trouble for everyone else in a 3m radius.
She grabbed Garrett’s forearm, her grip surprisingly tight. Garrett, main floor now, Ally ordered, her voice cutting through the distant thud of the music. Justin just confronted Hannah in front of the entire couches and TV crowd. He didn’t yell because he’s a sensitive artist type who probably cries at fabric softener commercials, but he handed her the notebook and asked her if she was using him to get closer to the hockey team, specifically to you.
Garrett felt a dangerous surge of adrenaline, his competitive, protective nature took over before his brain could stop him. Where is she? She walked out, Ally said honestly, her face softening with rare sympathy. She looked completely frozen. Gee, you know how she gets when her walls go up. She uses that sarcasm like a shield.
But her eyes were completely wrecked. Garrett didn’t wait to hear the rest. He shoved past Dean, ignored Logan, who was watching him anxiously from the top of the stairs, and bolted down the steps. He burst through the front door of the hockey house. The crisp New England night air hitting his face like a slap. The front yard was littered with students, but he spotted her immediately.
Hannah was walking fast down the sidewalk, her denim jacket pulled tightly around her, her head down. Hannah, Garrett called out, his long strides eating up the distance between them. Welsie, wait. She didn’t stop. If anything, she quickened her pace. Garrett caught up to her near the old oak tree at the edge of the campus quad, his hand reaching out to gently catch her elbow.
The moment his fingers brushed her jacket, she spun around, her eyes flashing under the dim amber glow of the campus street light. Don’t, Garrett, she said, her voice shaking slightly, though she tried desperately to mask it with her usual sharp wit. Just don’t go back to your party. Go back to the girls who actually appreciate a guy whose entire personality revolves around ice and a rubber puck.
Hannah, look at me, Garrett said, stepping closer. His body automatically blocking her from the view of the students still lingering near the house. Ally told me what happened. What did Justin say to you? He said exactly what he should have said,” Hannah replied, her chin tilting up defensively. “She was trying so hard to be independent, to be emotionally careful, but Garrett could see the slight tremor in her lower lip.
” He asked me if the lyrics I wrote were about him. And because I am an idiot who apparently can’t keep a secret, the lyrics were very clearly not about a guy who plays acoustic guitar in coffee shops, Garrett’s breath hitched in his throat. He stepped into her personal space. The awkward proximity between them making the air feel thick, heavy with everything they hadn’t said over the last month of fake dating.
He could smell her perfume, something sweet and clean, and it was driving him insane. “Who are they about Hannah?” Garrett asked softly, his sarcastic, guarded exterior completely melting away for a split second. Hannah let out a bitter, breathy laugh, her hands burying themselves deep into her pockets. “Don’t act dumb, Graham.
It doesn’t suit your high IQ strategy on the ice. He read the line about the 44 jersey. He read the part about the guy who makes too much noise in the kitchen at 2:00 in the morning because he can’t figure out how to use a toaster without waking up the entire house. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
He knows Garrett. And now everyone downstairs knows that our little arrangement to make him jealous wasn’t just an arrangement. At least not for me. I got careless. I let my guard down and now I look like a cliche. The smart girl who fell for the hockey captain. Classic. Garrett’s heart pounded against his ribs like a trapped bird.
Every instinct in his body screamed at him to pull her into his arms to tuck her head under his chin and tell her that he didn’t care about Justin. Didn’t care about the party. Didn’t care about anything other than the fact that she had written songs about him. But as he looked at her, he saw the absolute terror in her eyes.
She was emotionally careful for a reason. She had baggage. She had spent years making sure no one could catch her off guard. And right now, she felt completely exposed. If he pushed too hard, if he made a grand speech, she would run faster and further than he could follow. So Garrett did the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.
He masked his emotions. He let the sarcastic, confident Captain persona slide back into place, even though his insides were tearing apart. Well, Garrett said his voice forcely light, though his eyes remained intensely focused on hers. Justin always did have terrible taste in music anyway. If he can’t appreciate a good hockey reference, that’s on him.
Hannah blinked, clearly caught off guard by his lack of a declaration. The lingering look between them stretched, full of silent questions. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand as she pulled her silver bracelet from his jacket pocket. She must have realized he’d picked it up from the kitchen earlier.
The accidental touch sent a jolt straight up his spine. “Is that all you have to say, Graham?” she whispered, her voice dropping its defensive edge, replaced by a raw, painful vulnerability. Garrett took a half step back. The distance felt like miles. I think you should go back to your dorm, Welsie. Get some sleep. We have a tutoring session tomorrow.
Remember? Don’t let your star pupil fail philosophy. Hannah stared at him, her expression a mix of shock, hurt, and profound confusion. She had expected him to either mock her or hold her. She hadn’t expected him to just pull away. “Right,” she said quietly, her walls locking back into place with an audible snap.
“Philosophy! Wouldn’t want to ruin your GPA,” she turned on her heel and walked away, her silhouette disappearing into the shadows of the Brier University quad. Garrett stood under the street light for a long time, his fist clenched in his pockets, his chest aching. He had walked away. He had let her go because he knew she needed the space to breathe, but the urge to run after her was almost physical.
When he finally walked back into the hockey house, the atmosphere had shifted. The music was still loud, but the tension in the living room was palpable. Logan was waiting by the front door, his arms crossed over his chest, his observant eyes immediately locking onto Garrett’s face. “You let her leave,” Logan said. “It wasn’t a question.
” “Gee, what the hell? She was completely vulnerable out there. She needed space, Logan, Garrett said through his teeth, his protective anger flaring up. If I forced it tonight, she’d never talk to me again. Where’s Justin? Dean took care of it, Logan said with a grimace. Garrett’s head snapped up. What do you mean Dean took care of it? Where is Dean? That’s the problem.
Logan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Dean saw how upset Hannah was when she left. He went out to the porch where Justin was talking to a couple of guys from the track team. Dean being Dean decided that the best way to defend Hannah’s honor was to tell Justin and everyone else with an earshot that Hannah didn’t write those lyrics about you. Garrett froze.
Then who did he say she wrote them for? He told them she wrote them for him. Logan said flatly. Dean told the entire porch that he and Hannah have been secretly seeing each other behind your back and that the whole Garrett and Hannah thing was just a cover up so his actual girlfriend wouldn’t find out. He did what? Garrett’s voice was a low, dangerous growl.
Before Logan could answer, the front door clicked open. Ally walked in, holding her phone, her energetic face completely pale. She looked directly at Garrett, ignoring Logan entirely. “Garrett,” Ally said, her voice trembling slightly. “We have a massive problem.” Dean’s rumor just hit the Brier Greek life group chat. “But that’s not the worst part,” Garrett felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck.
“What’s the worst part, Ally?” Ally held up her screen. It was a text message thread forwarded from someone in Hannah’s dorm. Hannah’s roommate just texted me. Ally said, her eyes fixed on Garrett’s. Hannah didn’t go back to her dorm room tonight. She packed a small bag, left her phone on her desk, and got into a car.
Someone saw her leaving campus with a guy. And Garrett? It wasn’t Justin. And it definitely wasn’t Dean. Garrett reached out, gripping the wooden banister of the stairs so hard the wood groaned under his strength. The silver bracelet in his pocket felt heavy, a cold weight against his thigh. Every answer had created a new problem.
He had walked away to give her space. And now she was completely gone, off-rid, and the entire campus believed she was sleeping with his best friend. Who was driving the car, Ally? Garrett demanded, his voice dropping into that terrifying locked in captain tone. Who did she leave with? Ally swallowed hard, looking at the screen, then back up at Garrett.
The license plate matches a car registered to the Boston area. Logan recognized it from the hockey rosters last year. It’s her ex-boyfriend Garrett, the one she swore she would never speak to again.
Disclaimer : This content may be created by AI for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.
